


Pandora's Box

by helsinkibaby



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Het
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-06
Updated: 2012-09-06
Packaged: 2017-11-13 17:08:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/505794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly's not usually one for celebrating birthdays...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pandora's Box

Molly's not usually one for birthdays, but then she doesn't usually have anyone to celebrate with. This year, however, is different. This year, she's not sitting in her flat with her cat, a takeaway and a glass of wine, watching some girly chick flick and wishing things were different. 

This year, when she walks into the morgue, there is a vase of flowers waiting for her, a dozen red roses and she doesn't care how cliché it is, how much Sherlock turns up his nose, how much John glances over at her with a knowing smile. All she knows is that every time she glances at the flowers, passes by them and catches a whiff of their scent, she's grinning from ear to ear. 

Her phone beeps every so often with text messages and fifty percent of the time they're from family and friends, wishing her a happy birthday. The other fifty percent, they're from him. Some are questions about the body lying on her slab, some are complaints about Sherlock. Some are flirty comments designed to make her smile and blush in equal measure, and some are just designed for no other purpose than to make her blush. 

She doesn't seem him until that evening though, when he collects her at her flat to take her to dinner and Molly's not vain but she knows she's looking her best, even without the slow travel of his eyes up and down her body, the slow smile that spreads across his lips, all the way up to those brown eyes that she loves to get lost in. "You look amazing," Greg Lestrade tells her, leaning in to kiss her and she feels her lips turning up in what must be close to the millionth smile of the day. "Sorry I didn't get to see you..." he begins and she shakes her head, stepping away from him to grab her coat, putting an extra swing in her hips as she walks away, turning smartly mid-stride and, yep, just like she thought - jaw agape, eyes slightly glazed, just the effect she was looking for. 

"You like the dress then?" she teases, and she'd wear he's blushing. 

"I liked the dress at Christmas," he tells her and for once the memory of Sherlock's ghastly Christmas party doesn't have any effect on her. "I love it now." His voice is lower than usual, sending a shiver up her spine because she knows what it means, has heard it before. She's very tempted to suggest forgetting going out and staying in and having takeout in bed instead but damn it, she's been looking forward to this night for weeks. 

Turns out he's thinking the same thoughts because he offers her his elbow with a grin. "I think we should leave before I forget all the nice things I have planned for you."

A short taxi ride takes them to a very nice, very fancy restaurant and she's definitely glad she wore the dress, made an effort to leave work early and get her hair and make up done. The food is delicious, the conversation flowing easily between them and not for the first time she wonders how it's so easy with Greg when with anyone else, this would be her worst nightmare. He holds her hand across the table, taps his foot against hers underneath, and when the main course plates are cleared and dessert has been ordered, he reaches into his jacket pocket and hands her a present. 

"I hope you like it," he says and he actually looks nervous. 

"I'll love it," Molly says, sure it's true, and she takes her time removing the wrapping, finding a square box underneath, an embossed logo of a ring and a crown on top. When she opens the box, there is a bracelet inside, a tiny silver charm in the shape of a heart in the middle, a gold chain with a key dangling from it. "The key to your heart?" she guesses, doing a quite passable job of forcing the words past the sudden lump in her throat.

"The girl in the shop seemed quite taken with the symbolism of it all," he admits, reaching over and lifting the bracelet, placing it on her wrist and closing the clasp. His fingers are warm against her skin, as warm as his eyes, as his smile. "Didn't like to tell her you've had that for a while... that this is just jewelry."

He's so obviously sincere that Molly has to swallow hard against the tears prickling at the back of her eyes. "I love it, Greg," she says. 

His response is to lean across the table, brush his lips across hers. "I love you," he tells her. 

That's when Molly knows that this truly is the best birthday ever.

*fill - key to (my) heart. And I actually own this charm!


End file.
